


Almost

by Zivitz



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bittersweet, F/M, Miscarriage, New Beginnings, Old Wounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:21:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27043408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zivitz/pseuds/Zivitz
Summary: In the wake of a new beginning, Abby reveals an old 'almost'.
Relationships: Abby Griffin/Marcus Kane
Comments: 16
Kudos: 26





	Almost

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Discussion of miscarriage. I hope I did it right, but if it's a sensitive topic you may want to skip this one.

Abby slung an arm over his shoulder as he sat on the couch, and giggled slightly.

Marcus turned his head toward her. “What?”

“He has your nose.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“I am not. Look,” she said, pointing at the distinct curve on the head sleeping peacefully against his chest.

“He cannot possibly have my nose.”

“Are you saying I cheated on you?” She drew back in mock outrage.

“He’s a dog, Abby.”

“Hey, that’s your son you’re talking about.”

He rolled his eyes and ran a hand down the small furred body curled against him. “You’re getting broody.”

Abby hummed as she put her head on his shoulder, hand joining his on the puppy’s side as it twitched in its sleep. “Maybe I am. It’s been a long time since I thought about babies.”

The corner of his mouth lifted in a wistful smile. “Me, too.”

Her hand stilled. “You’ve thought about-”

“Of course I have.”

She began stroking the soft yellow fur with a thumb. “When?”

He shrugged slightly. “When I was young, before I realized what would be required of us for humanity to survive. Sometimes when I saw small children at the Eden tree.” He tilted his head toward her briefly. “In Polis. A few times in the bunker. What it might be like if things weren’t the way they were.”

Abby’s breath caught for a moment. “Me, too,” she confessed. “Especially-”

He raised his brows. “Especially?”

She hesitated, and Marcus frowned. “What is it?”

She bit her lip and looked him in the eye. “I think I might have had a miscarriage.”

The air left his lungs in a great whoosh and he leaned forward suddenly. “When? Now?”

Abby shook her head. “Back in the bunker, just after Praimfaya.”

He sat back and the puppy, almost forgotten, stretched and yawned. He smacked his mouth a few times before tucking his front paws under his chest and snuggling into Marcus’s shirt. He ran his free hand over his face, lingering at his chin. He looked stricken. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She laughed shortly. “I wasn’t even talking to you then.”

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. The smell of puppy breath lingered in the air and she felt like a burden she hadn’t known she was carrying had shifted from her shoulders. “I wasn’t sure,” she said. “I’m still not entirely- I woke up and I was so angry. At you, at me, at everyone in the bunker and the whole situation. Then I started bleeding- early- and I thought maybe it was just the stress of the whole situation. But it was so heavy, and it hurt so much.”

He dropped a kiss to her temple. “Abby... if it was the gas-”

She shook her head. “It could have been anything. I was stressed beyond belief. Wasn’t taking care of myself. Could have been a blighted ovum or a genetic problem or the pills. Or it could have been nothing.”

Marcus leaned his head against the top of hers and sighed. “But it wasn’t,” he said softly. The puppy shifted in its sleep.

She closed her eyes against the tears that were beginning to gather. “No, I don’t think it was.” She ran her hand along his jaw, nuzzling into his neck. “I think we were going to have a baby.”

They sat in silence for some minutes, the insects of the Valley singing to them in the twilight. There was the ever-present noise of people outside their little cabin; some laughing around the fire, others arguing over draughts or cards or whose turn it was to take the first watch. There were small voices now, too, little ones whining against the inevitable and older ones begging for ten more minutes.

Sounds he would never be familiar with, he thought, and rubbed his partner’s shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said at last.

“I know,” she mumbled into his shirt. “But it feels like it sometimes.”

“You should have told me, Abby. I would have helped you.”

He felt her head move slightly against him. “I didn’t want any. And I wasn’t ready. Then... then I just wanted to forget.” She lifted her face to him. “You’re the only one I’ve ever told. I’m sorry.”

“No,” he said, and leaned down to kiss her gently. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. If anything, it’s me who’s sorry you carried this alone for so long.” He paused. “Do you know, I mean, was it-”

Abby shook her head again. “It was too early. I always think of it as a boy, though.”

“A boy.” Marcus smiled. “I would have liked that.”

“Me, too.”

He used his free hand to awkwardly brush some strands of hair away from her face, and she could tell he was thinking hard. The puppy began barking in its sleep, and again she ran a hand along his jaw. “What?”

He hesitated a moment longer, then said, “I always liked the name Henry.”

She wallowed past the lump in her throat and patted his cheek. “Henry. I could live with that.”

They watched the puppy wag its tail in its sleep, paws working and chest heaving with the exertion of chasing whatever it was chasing in its dreams. He imagined a little boy, five or six years old now, with dark curls and his mother’s eyes sitting with them and felt a tug at his heart. Marcus looked down at the woman curled against him, marvelling at the strength she had to keep all of this inside for so long and through so much. Wished it could have been different, knowing if they had been things in the bunker would have been worse. Regretting the undercurrent of relief he felt.

Abby reached her hand across his belly and gave him a squeeze. “Are you okay?”

He smiled absently. “I’m okay. What about you?”

She shrugged slightly. “I’ve had time to get used to it. It’s good to be able to share it, though. He would have been a good boy.”

Marcus laughed outright. “I was just thinking how much he’d be a troublemaker like his mother.”

She grinned up at him, glad this was something they could talk about. Glad that Clarke had helped her beat the pills that had almost ruined this thing between them. Glad they were still them. “What about this one,” she said, nodding toward the dog. “Think he’s going to be a troublemaker?”

“Well, apparently he’s our son, so... probably.”

As if he knew they were talking about him, the puppy opened his eyes and wagged his tail at them lazily. His little body stiffened as he stretched all four paws out in front of him and arched his neck backward before relaxing again, adoring eyes on the faces above him. He turned onto his tummy and crawled up Marcus’s chest, lavishing him with kisses and pawing at his beard. Abby stroked a hand down his back and he turned his attention toward her, hind legs stretching out behind him and head turning to try and lick her hand. She took him from Marcus as she untangled herself from his embrace.

“Come on, Henry, Mommy’s going to take you out for a pee.”

Marcus looked at her and raised his brows. “Henry?”

She shrugged. “If that’s okay. He’ll never be- but it’s a good name.”

He tilted his head at her. “No, he won’t, but he’ll be ours.” He smirked slightly. “Just make sure he doesn’t defile my vegetables.”

Abby laughed and kissed him on the cheek. “I make no promises.”


End file.
